


Working At The Carwash

by rainingnostalgia



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Car Wash - Freeform, M/M, Smut, Top!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:58:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingnostalgia/pseuds/rainingnostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Direction run a charity car wash.</p><p>"Louis hadn't taken into consideration a certain Harry Styles, in a skin tight tshirt that was plastered to his body due to Niall accidentally giving him a hosing down at the start of the morning, in his grand scheme of plans."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working At The Carwash

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at smut, please don't judge me, i am new to all of this, my mind is still innocent. haha oh how i wish.  
> enjoy!

“Liam, against my better judgement, I suggested this absolutely atrocious fundraising event and now I really, really regret it.”

“Louis, stop being so melodramatic. It's gonna be fun!” Liam's enthusiasm has yet to rub off on the shorter boy.

Louis knows it's a dying cause but he's not going down without a fight. “No. Can't we just send everyone home and have a cake sale instead? Everyone loves cupcakes!” 

“LOUIS, for god's sake, take this sponge and bucket and go help Niall. He's supposed to be watering the soap off the cars and not the bloody plants.” Cracking in exasperation, Liam dumps the Finding Nemo bucket of warm water by the elder's feet and lobs the sponge at him too before scuttling off to help Zayn with the parking.

“Go and make yourself useful for once, Tommo,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks away, voice half joking and comforting in an attempt to diffuse his previous outburst.

Glaring at the overly happy clownfish on the side of the bucket as though it's personally offended him, Louis calls out petulantly, “No. Shan't.”

Louis' sulking last another twenty seconds before he lets out a childish whine, picks up his supplies gingerly and trudges off to find Niall who's nestled inbetween two less-than-shiny Audi's. 

His Hunter wellies hinder his ability to walk and it only adds to his worsening mood.

Two months ago when management told them that they needed to do more charity work, despite having released a single for Comic Relief, and asked them for ideas, of course it was Louis who suggested a charity carwash. It brought back memories of his summers in Doncaster; the sun, the ice cream, the hosepipe battles and of course the inevitable water fight at the end. He'd eagerly wanted to restore this tradition and introduce it to the lads who'd admitted that they'd never actually washed a car before, much to Louis disbelief. He raved on and on about the impending event, nominating himself to delegate roles and to organise it, with Liam as his second in command of course, because let's face it, without Liam, the plans would've flopped and most likely wouldn't have seen the light of day. Not that Louis would admit that.

Only, Louis hadn't taken into consideration a certain Harry Styles in a skin tight tshirt that was plastered to his body due to Niall accidentally giving him a hosing down at the start of the morning, in his grand scheme of plans.

No, Louis definitely hadn't seen that one coming.

“Niaaaall,” his bottom lip jutting out in a mock pout to accompany his whine. Upon reaching the Irishman, he promptly set down the items he was carrying and leant on the hood of the car that had yet to be assaulted by Niall and his hosepipe. 

“Sup Lou?” Niall was clad in a plain blue tshirt, baggy cut off shorts and a pair of canary yellow wellingtons. 

“This was a stupid idea.” said Louis, attempting some reverse psychology to try and get some reassurance from the other boy.

“Well obviously, you suggested it.” That was not what Louis was expecting. Not bothering to reply, he watched Niall completely disregarding the car, and instead, scaring away some birds pecking on the grass with a rush of water from the hose.

“Alright, what's up? You're being too quite, it's unnerving me.” questioned the blonde, his happy persona bubbling back to the surface. Louis ignored the insult.

“Just look at him, Ni. He's practically a walking, talking attraction for customers to goggle at. I'm certain that people are only getting their cars washed so they can stare at him. They don't care about charity or the poor, sick animals who need help! They only care about that bloody fan-fucking-tastic body he's displaying!” Louis speech is complete with heart eyes as he rests his head on his palm, elbow leaning precariously on a wing mirror. 

He's very obviously gorming out at the curly haired boy, watching in admiration as the muscles in his abs ripple visibly through his tshirt which is now transparent and soaking wet still. He watches the way Harry's biceps flex as he scrubs vigorously at a stubborn mud stain on the side of the car he's cleaning.

“Of course Louis.” Niall deadpans, stopping to stare blankly at him.

“Look, just go talk to him and have some fun. Make the most of today, you know how long it took for management to get the permit so no paps can get anywhere near here. Make the most of the camera-free environment!” Niall relents, arms waving about to exaggerate freedom and circumstantially drenching a little girl walking by.

“But Niall, what if Harry finds someone here and decides that they're better than me?! What if he finds someone tall, dark and handsome to sweep him off his feet?!” Louis can't help being over-dramatic, it's in his nature okay?

“It's all good Lou, i'm pretty sure Zayn's on the other side of the field. Plus, our Harold's more likely to be doing the sweeping than to be swept, if you get me?”

“But Niall, that's not the point. What if some-”

“Louis, if you don't walk your sassy little ass over to Harry in the next 10 seconds, I will not hold back in drenching you with this hosepipe.” Niall's threat hangs heavy in the air as Louis debates the conviction in the Irish boy's words and whether he will actually follow through with it.

“Yeah, you keep walking Lou!” He hears the distinct accent behind him as he legs it away from Niall and towards Harry because Niall cannot be trusted with a potential weapon of mass watery destruction.

And because Harry and Louis are like magnets. Constantly drawn to each other. Like there is some sort of GPS tracker embedded deep in the other, as they always manage to find their way into each other's arms no matter what.

“Louis!” Louis doesn't miss the way Harry's face lights up when he spots him, and opens his arms as the taller boy throws down his sponge and bounds straight into his inviting chest. Louis grimaces slightly as he feels the dampness of Harry's clothes being absorbed into his own tshirt, but he can't complain when he's got his whole world pressed against him.

“Missed you BooBear. Thought you were going to stay chatting with our little Irishman forever.” Harry grumbles as he pulls away slightly because although there are no paps, there's still people around with more than enough opportunity to film or photograph them. 

There's an ache in Louis' chest when he thinks about this because there really is no where that they can just be them and be open without having to think about suffering the repercussions. 

“Never, love. I was simply admiring your physique from afar. In fact, I think that you're quite indecent. Just look at all these innocent beings, you're just corrupting them all.” Louis says trying to lighten the mood, succeeding when Harry's eyes light up accompanied by a smirk.

“So you were admiring me?” There's a shit eating grin on his face that Louis just wants to kiss away.

“Maybe.”

“And did you like what you saw?” Now Harry's fingers are grasping at the hem of Louis old, fraying shirt and toying with it and then reaching his thin fingers underneath the fabric to gently massage the skin of the older boy's hips.

“Haz! Stop, you can't molest me in front of all these innocent childen!” Louis reprimands jestingly and gesturing to the people surrounding them.

There are two little boys around the age of six or seven looking completely uninterested with life and slowly licking their ice creams. A huddle of mums sitting on a nearby bench, noses integrated in Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights and the likes. A pair of elderly grandmothers attempting to chat up Zayn as he politely declines. A nervous Liam lingering nearby as he's being followed by a group of toddlers wanting to feel his newly shaven head.

Harry merely looks around at the spectacle, returning his gaze back to his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow as if to say, _“Really?”_

Sighing in resignation Louis let's himself be handled by Harry as a hand wraps around his neck, the other pulling him in by the small of his back and a pair of eager lips covering his. Louis' just glad that his boy's just as eager and needy as him.

Harry's lips are gentle but firm, and he kisses with a dominant air that makes Louis weak at the knees. A roaming tongue swipes at his bottom lip and he parts his lips to give Harry access, his tongue meeting Louis' and they dance together with practised ease. When Harry runs the tip of his tongue along the back of his teeth, he _knows_ what the cheeky bugger is doing because he can literally feel his bones turning to mush as he struggles to regain the remnants of his composure.

Having to pull back, Louis rests his head against Harry's, breaths coming out in shallow pants which are swallowed up easily by Harry's still parted albeit swollen lips.

“Aw babe, I love how easily you get riled up.” Harry chuckles.

“Hmph,” is all Louis can manage as he paws weakly at Harry's well defined chest.

“Shh love,” comes the soothing reply, Harry's giant hand coming up to cup Louis' head and card his fingers through the caramel locks.

“I'm going to take care of you later, okay, love?” Harry finishes, drawing a moan from Louis in anticipation as he feels all the blood in his body rushing south.

Resting his cheek in the cavity created between Harry's angular collar bones, Louis surveys their surroundings.

The sun is illuminating the field, people escaping it's heat by lounging under the scattered trees. Others are taking advantage of the sporadic sunshine, rolling up their sleeves and trouser legs and slathering on sunscreen to bask in the warmth as they wait for their cars to be returned to them. People are milling about, blatantly revelling in the fact that _One Direction_ are washing their cars. 

He can see Niall finally starting to wash the cars assigned to him, with the help of Josh, ice cream cone in hand. Zayn's managed to evade his elderly admirers and is taking a picture of the _“One Direction's Charity Car Wash!”_ sign which he painstakingly hand painted himself. Liam is running after a little girl who made off with his water bucket and is refusing to give it back. 

_And this is what content feels like,_ thinks Louis. 

 

∞∞∞

 

“H-Harry, please.”

Louis' strung out on their bed, clothes discarded on the floor. Wrists pinned above his head, encased in one of Harry's palms.

His hips roll upwards meeting Harry's which grind down, seeking out the friction from his boxer clad crotch and Louis' freed cock. Harry's other hand fumbles blindly trying to seek out lube from their night stand, lips pressed firmly against the shorter boy's.

Louis can feel his own heartbeat in his ears as Harry's mouth moves down to his neck, unable to leave a mark and instead imprinting open mouthed kisses to the tan skin. He almost wails when Harry draws back to extract his long legs from his Topman boxers and then he actually groans, loud and unabashed, as their cocks rub together when Harry closes in on him again. 

It's a few minutes of intense frottage, heavy pants bouncing off the walls as Louis feels himself becoming undone at the seams, precome smearing messily on his lower stomach as he whines in need, mind screaming _moremoremore_.

“Harry stop teasing,” he attempts to say but the words get stuck on their way out as he feels a cold, wet finger nudging between his legs.

Eliciting a small “oh” in surprise, it morphs into more of a “uurggghh” of relief as Harry slides the first digit inside of him, legs parting wider to accommodate more and hands gripping the vertical rungs of the headboard above him.

“You alright Lou?” the words are spoken through gritted teeth as though Harry's having trouble holding back, and who wouldn't if they had Louis Tomlinson all spread out and a writhing mess infront of them?

“Hmmm, more pl-ease” His chest is heaving as he pushes down, arse forced back against the single finger.

Deciding that, nope, he can't really wait any longer, Harry skips the second finger and gently slides two more fingers inside Louis' puckered hole to join the first. The effect is immediate as Louis moans wantonly and thrusts back, knees bent, trying to seek more. 

Harry watches in fascination as Louis' hole draws his fingers all the way to the knuckle, hips moving in an infinity motion.

“Ah babe, look so good fucking yourself on my fingers,” Harry spits out, hand unmoving as he lets Louis do the work. His other hand is uncapping the lube and applying it liberally to his straining cock, red and hard against the flat plane of his stomach.

“S-st-stop Haz. Want you. In me. Now. Please.” Louis pleas only emphasise his desperation, his ability to form sentences out the window as he spits out monosyllables. 

A broken whine escapes his parted lips as a result of the emptiness from Harry removing his fingers.

Taking hold of Louis' ankles and spreading his legs impossibly further apart, knees bent so that they rest on either side of his torso, Harry can see his twitching hole, causing a bead of precome to form at the tip of his prick.

Guiding his cock to the ring of muscle between Louis' cheeks, he looks up to the other boy, eyes checking for approval and when he receives a nod, he begins pushing forward into tight heat.

Despite having fingered him loose, Louis is still so tight and warm and Harry wants so badly just to fuck forwards and wreck him. Sliding in inch by inch until he's bottomed out, hips pressed snugly to the delicious curve of Louis' bum, he stills, waiting for Louis to adjust.

His eyes wander upwards, raking over Louis' chest as he frantically draws in jagged breaths to try and ease the dull pain at the base of his spine because, yeah, Harry knows that he's big and no matter how many times they fuck, it's always a stretch for Louis.

Harry's hands join Louis, gripping the bars on the headboard and he leans down to suck on Louis' bottom lip, knows how the other boy loves it. 

Seeing the pure lust in Louis' eyes and the tap of his fingers against his own is all the assurance Harry needs and he pulls out almost completely, until just the tip of his cock is buried in Louis, and slams back in. He pulls out again, only to drive his hips forward at a sinful speed, the room filled with the sounds of skin slapping on skin. 

They work out a rhythm, Harry slamming his hips at a brisk pace as Louis meets him halfway. Harry uses his hands on the headboard as leverage to pull himself forward even harder, rocking Louis into the mattress.

Louis' sure he can see the corners of his vision whiting out, knows he won't last long because of the pent up frustration from seeing Harry in a wet tshirt all day. He can feel that familiar fire, burning in his lower belly, coiling and contracting in waves of pleasure as Harry's dick chases his orgasm. His voice is fucked as he let's a near constant stream of “please's” and “more, please more” slip from his throat, and when he begins to see the spots behind his eyes it's as though he's been functioned to only be able to speak one word as he chants out _“Harry”_ religiously. 

With the tip of his dick brushing against Louis' prostate on each thrust, Harry can feel Louis' walls beginning to clamp down and feel the lithe body of his boyfriend arching up to meet his own. His knuckles turn white from gripping the headboard so hard.

The fiery heat pooling in Louis' stomach is spreading along his veins, licking along his bloodstream, testosterone causing his heart to race as he can feel his impending release. Without even a hand to his cock, ropes of white paint his chest and splat messily onto Harry, Louis' voice breaking as he screams Harry's name, eyes wrenched shut. 

Harry fucks him through his orgasm, feels the tightening of Louis' arse and is soon following Louis downwards into blinding pleasure. He only stills when he's fully buried himself in Louis, releasing all he has and leaning down to kiss the smaller boy's closed eyelids.

Detaching his hands from the bars, Harry's fingers brush away the sweaty strands from Louis' flushed face, thumb caressing his cheek as he tries to catch his breath. 

“So good, Lou. So good for me. So beautiful.” Each sentence is punctuated with a kiss to Louis' delicate lips.

“Don't. Don't move yet. Stay inside me. For a bit longer.” Louis whispers hoarsely, voice shot from crying out earlier.

“Of course, love” sealing the promise with another tender kiss, Harry basks in awe of how beautiful Louis is. Cheeks rosy and gorgeously flushed, eyes glassy and unfocused, his hair completely uncomposed and slightly matted framing his face. 

Harry pulls Louis' legs down so they're resting flat on the bed to avoid cramping up later, reaches up to intertwine their fingers and rolls onto his side so Louis is cuddled against him, head tucked under his chin.

Sometimes it worries Harry that Louis is so small. So vulnerable. 

Their set for the “Take Me Home” tour involves a pair of staircases each side of the stage and the other night when Louis tripped _up_ them, his heart leapt into his throat because with Louis and his reckless antics, it's so easy to imagine him accidentally stumbling and toppling down the stairs. 

And when they do signings, there's so many fans and Louis just looks like he's been swallowed by an ocean of teenage hysteria that's washing him further and further away from Harry. 

He hates not being able to hold Louis like this all the time. Protecting him from the hardships of life. Some days when Harry wakes up, legs tangled with Louis' under the sheets and arms wrapped tightly around his body, he wants to forget about their band duties and just lay with Louis, all day, in his embrace. Sometimes their not-so-secret touches and onstage smiles aren't enough because Harry needs all of Louis.

Louis can tell that inside Harry's head, he's about a thought or so away from having an aneurysm, so he brushes his lips against Harry's pulse on his neck, trying to ease away what ever mental battle Harry seems to be having. 

Louis doesn't speak, doesn't think he can speak, so he settles for listening to the steady lub-dub of Harry's strong heart. Breathing in the smell of sex, musk and something so uniquely _Harry,_ Louis just wishes he could lie there next to Harry forever.

**Author's Note:**

> i give you permission to laugh at how awful the sex scene was.  
> unbeta'd so if you spot any mistakes, please let me know!  
> let me know what you think and my tumblr is rainingnostalgia if you want to message me a promt of something!


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